


Call Out My Name

by jojo_kenobi



Series: Last Request [2]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Developing Relationship, Elliot works for E Corp, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_kenobi/pseuds/jojo_kenobi
Summary: // Or that one time in August when Tyrell and he had driven out to Coney Island after work. They had watched the sun set over the ocean and Tyrell's fingers had brushed against his, but neither of them had dared to intertwine their hands. //- If You Want Love, Chapter 3.





	Call Out My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I advise that you have read either "Fight or Flight, Elliot?" or "If You Want Love" so you kinda have context, but it can be read separately as well.

Maybe he shouldn't have started to turn this into a habit.

It was way past the eight hours he was supposed to stay at work, but Elliot had stopped caring about that. He was currently bent over some files that were spread out on Tyrell's couch table, while his boss was busy coding their current project at his desk. They were used to working together here when it had gotten later than intended. Most of it was because they had gotten tired of calling each other every five minutes because they had a question about something; it didn't make sense for them to be apart from each other when they both worked on the same project. Of course, there had also been countless occasions where they had taken breaks to make out with each other. There was no need to deny that this played a large part to why Elliot was coming over so often, too. But if he was being honest, he could admit that he enjoyed Tyrell’s company even if they were both quietly working on their own stuff.

He would dare to call it peaceful. After six PM, chances were high that the only people left in the company were yourself and the cleaning staff.

So it was quite unusual that Tyrell's office phone went off at 6:47 PM. Well, maybe not unusual, but the potential candidates to who would be calling were limited to one person: Joanna. Elliot suppressed a groan.

"Wellick?" Tyrell asked when he picked up the phone. Elliot looked over at him, watched his indifferent expression turn into an annoyed one. Elliot knew how this would go down: Joanna would snarl at her husband for staying in too late and remind him that he had a son to say goodnight to. That argument usually convinced him to pack up and they'd both go their own ways.

Well, usually. But today Tyrell sighed after he had listened to her for a while, then answered, "I can't. I'm still working on the project and it has to be done before the meeting tomorrow morning. You know how important it is. Elliot and I -"

Even from the distance, Elliot could hear Joanna repeat his name in a high-pitched tone. "Elliot's there with you? Again? Has he got nothing better to do than stay in late with you?"

_Not really, no. This is the best part of my day._

"Leave him out of this. This is my fault, not his," Tyrell snapped back at her. He glanced at Elliot. "Don't wait up for me," he added and hung up on her without waiting for her reply. He sighed again, rubbing his eyes now. He looked so worn down that Elliot suddenly felt the urge to go over and hug him tight.

_Not helpful. Or maybe… no. Snap out of it._

"Let's get out of here," Tyrell suddenly spoke up and shut his laptop a little too exaggerated.

"I thought we have to finish this," Elliot replied.

"We do, but I need to eat something first. I'm starving," Tyrell explained, but it sounded a little make-believe. Once they had gotten out of here, it would be a lot harder to muster up the self-control to go back in.

"So let's just order something as usual," he proposed. Tyrell shook his head, shoved his papers into a coherent stack and got up.

"I need to clear my head for a bit. What about pizza?" he asked, walked over to him and stuck his hand out to him. Elliot took it, let himself be pulled up by his boss. He came to a halt inches away from his lips, didn't resist the temptation they offered and pressed a firm kiss onto them.

"Sounds good. We're coming back here, right?" Elliot asked after they had parted.

"Yes," Tyrell answered, albeit grudgingly, "you can leave your things here."

"Alright. It's my turn to pay, though," Elliot gave back.

"Is it Wednesday already?" he wondered. For a second, he looked a bit lost, but then he masked it with a fake laugh. That might have worked on some of their colleagues, but not on Elliot.

"You know, you don't have to do that around me," Elliot remarked. He grabbed his wallet and his phone from the couch table and pocketed both things in his jeans.

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be something you're not. It's late and you're exhausted. Believe me, I get it.”

Elliot was about to grab the handle of the office door when Tyrell held him back. He slung both of his hands around his neck and kissed him, surprisingly fiercely for someone so tired.

"Thank you," Tyrell whispered.

Elliot smiled. "No big deal. Let's get you pizza."

  


**|~|**

  


Tyrell pulled up to their favorite pizza place about ten minutes later. He put on the hand-break, shut off the engine, but then lingered.

"What's up?" Elliot asked after Tyrell had stared out to the streets for a while. He blinked now, seemingly only now becoming aware that he wasn't alone. Had he been that lost in his thoughts?

"Nothing," Tyrell answered, "let's go."

"What did I say about pretending? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I'm just saying -"

"I really don't want to talk about it," Tyrell cut him off.

"Okay," Elliot mumbled, tried not to sound too hurt.

Tyrell had been in a cranky mood for a couple of days now. At this point, Elliot had questioned whether it was his fault. Rationally he knew he hadn't done something wrong, at least not work-related. Maybe Tyrell had grown tired of him? Shit, had he acted too clingy? Who did he even think he was that he expected Tyrell to share his problems with him? Now that he thought about it, he realized how ridiculous that was. They weren't even friends; they were boss and assistant, who sometimes had sex with each other. _Not good enough_.

Tyrell unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, shut the door of the car so hard that the car vibrated for a few seconds. Elliot hurried after him, expected him to be gone already. But there was no need to worry; Tyrell was waiting for him at the pizzeria, even held the door open for him.

"Thanks," Elliot mumbled when he passed him. Tyrell nodded, then put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, as if he needed to reassure him.

" _Buona sera_ gentlemen, the same as always?" the owner asked them, provoking a tiny smile to appear on Tyrell's face.

"Yes," he replied after Elliot had nodded, “and two beers."

Elliot raised his eyebrows at him. “That's not gonna help you concentrate when we go back in."

"Then let's not go back in," Tyrell said, confusing him even more. "Let's just leave. How about we drive out to Coney Island and watch the sunset over the ocean?"

The last part he murmured under his breath, so the owner couldn't hear him.

"You sure about that? Your wife -"

"Fuck Joanna. It's not like she owns me," Tyrell protested. Elliot couldn't hold back his snort. Contrary to that, it always seemed like he did exactly what she wanted. But he didn't want to probe now. Tyrell probably had enough reasons to be upset. None of his business, anyway.

"Okay," Elliot answered, smiling back at him. After all, he wanted to spend time with him. Hell, they hadn't slept with each other for almost four days in a row now. Typically they never lasted longer than two. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed it. He missed to feel his skin on his, he missed the way Tyrell moaned his name and he missed the lazy kisses after they had come.

And he wondered whether Tyrell missed him, too. Looking at him now, it certainly didn't seem like it. Tyrell was staring at his phone, frowning at a new message from... Joanna, Elliot read. The message wasn't in English, so Elliot quickly averted his gaze. He didn't want Tyrell to think he was snooping around. They were long past this point by now. Elliot hadn't hacked him in months, even though he wished he could. He craved to know what was bothering him these days. But Tyrell would definitely find out about it and Elliot would be damned before he voluntarily gave Tyrell a reason to distrust him.

"That'll be 34 bucks, please," the owner spoke up all of a sudden. Tyrell slid his phone back in the pocket of his suit pants, looked expectantly at Elliot. There was a flick of hair hanging into his face and Tyrell slicked it back with a frantic motion. It took Elliot a few second and a lot of willpower to look away from his boss and to focus on getting money out of his wallet instead.

"Keep the change," Elliot mumbled, handed over 35 dollars. Tyrell grabbed the pizza cartons, so Elliot took the beers.

"I can drive, if you want to eat," Elliot proposed when Tyrell unlocked his Jeep.

"Who says I can't eat while driving?" Tyrell gave back and got into the driver's seat.

"Thought you'd hate that," Elliot replied. He remembered a taxi driver a few weeks ago. The driver had eaten a sandwich and Tyrell had been revolted by the crumbs that had scattered everywhere.

"I’m too hungry to care," Tyrell answered when Elliot sat down next to him. After he had secured the beer in the cup holders, Elliot got ahold of the cartons Tyrell handed over to him. Then, Tyrell took out a piece of pizza from the top carton. It was greasy, so he folded it to get a better grip. But before he leaned back into his own seat, he looked up at Elliot. He wanted to say something, anything, but all of a sudden Tyrell's gaze was too intense. And when he leaned in to kiss him, Elliot's jeans grew tight awfully fast. Shit, he missed him. He wanted nothing more than to pull him on the backseat and -

Tyrell leaned back again, for once not frowning anymore. _Finally_.

He started the engine and ate his slice, then backed out of his parking spot.

"You know the way, right?" Tyrell asked.

"Yeah."

Elliot would always find his way to the arcade. Thankfully that's not exactly where they were headed. Tyrell would never get involved with FSociety, that was one thing Elliot was sure of. Before that happened, Elliot would rather quit it entirely. He didn't understand why it would bother him so much to have him on board; if he knew what they were planning, maybe he'd help. If he could get over the fact that Elliot had become his assistant to spy on Evil Corp.

_Maybe he already knows about it._

_No. He can't._

Elliot hadn't spied on him for months now. He didn't want to.

For some reason, betraying Tyrell seemed worse to him now than betraying FSociety. He didn't know what to make of this, but it was true.

Maybe because this thing with Tyrell was more than just fucking. It had to be.

  


**|~|**

  


Tyrell parked closer to the arcade than Elliot would care for. He even glanced at it when they had passed it on their way to the beach, making a half-hearted joke about the neon sign: "F Society? Really? Do the hackers now get places named after them?"

"Yeah, pretentious, right?" Elliot had answered, forced himself to laugh and hurried past it.

By now, merely half of their pizzas were left. Tyrell had ended up dripping cheese on his suit pants while he was driving and Elliot had laughed at him. At first, he had expected Tyrell to scold him for that, but there was a tiny smirk on his lips then, too. Elliot's heart had leaped a little; when was the last time he had seen him genuinely amused?

They had arrived at the beach now, pizza cartons and beers in their hands. Tyrell made a bit of a ridiculous sight, walking through the sand in a full suit, with his nice shoes and all.

"Just take them off," Elliot said, shooting him a glance from the side. Okay, not only a glance; he had been staring at him for a bit too long now. But Tyrell looked back at him, smiled as if it didn't bother him in the slightest.

"I will, once we sit down," he gave back.

"Okay," Elliot said, "how about here?"

They were a few meters away from the ocean now, but far enough so the sand wasn't wet yet. There were almost alone here, the only people present being a woman with her dog and a group of teenagers sitting somewhere about a hundred meters to their left.

"Looks perfect," Tyrell answered. The corners of his mouth twitched before they pulled up in a smile that was so warm, Elliot felt his pulse speed up.

They sat down in the sand and placed the pizza and the bottles in front of them. Tyrell finally untied his shoes now, got rid of them as well as his socks.

"I don’t think I've ever seen your feet before," Elliot remarked without thinking about it.

Tyrell snorted. "Well, I don't take my socks off when we fuck, so... I guess you're right." He buried them in the sand before Elliot could get a closer look. Did that make him uncomfortable? It had a strange intimacy, kind of. Well, all of this had. Them out here at the beach after work? Elliot didn't think they had ever done something together outside of their office that wasn't either work- or fucking-related.

"Do you have a bottle opener?" Tyrell asked, already with another slice of pizza in his hand.

"I have a lighter," Elliot gave back, but Tyrell frowned. "Are you going to tell me that you don't know how to open a bottle with a lighter?" he added, couldn't hide a teasing grin while he pulled his lighter from the pocket of his jeans.

"I've always had someone else do it for me," he admitted. Elliot laughed, causing the lighter to slip off of the bottleneck.

"What, is that part of my job description now, too? To assist you in opening your beer?" he teased him.

Tyrell shoved him to the side, but he laughed at that, too.

"Come on, we're not at work right now. It's just that I don't really drink beer too often," he admitted.

"Me neither. Kinda hate it, actually."

"So why did we buy beer if neither of us likes it?" Tyrell mused, laughing again now.

Elliot handed him the open beer and shrugged. "You were the one who wanted to buy them."

"Yeah, well, so what? _Skål_."

"Cheers," Elliot gave back, clinked his bottle against Tyrell's.

"Hey, you have to look me in the eyes. I don't want our sex life to be ruined because you can't follow the rules," Tyrell mocked him.

"I think we're gonna be okay," Elliot murmured while he continued to look over the ocean. The setting sun turned the sky into lilac right now.

"We're talking about seven years, Elliot. Seven years of bad sex. Do you want that for us?" he asked, had lowered his voice now. I don't think we're going to last that long, Elliot wanted to give back, but merely shrugged and kept his mouth shut. Until he felt Tyrell's fingers encompass his chin. He turned his head slowly, made him look back now.

"Let's try that again," Tyrell whispered. Eyes locked, their bottles clinked together again. Tyrell leaned forward for a bit, rested a hand on Elliot's knee.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. Elliot knew he should say no, should warn him in case someone who knew they would be here, but all he managed to do was choke out a small "yes."

So Tyrell kissed him, slow and cherishing. Elliot wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, held him firmly in place so he wouldn't stop. Had they ever kissed in public before? Did it even matter? They were now.

A while later, their mouths parted and Tyrell brought their foreheads together. When Elliot opened his eyes again, he saw him smiling, still with his eyes closed. Cherishing, lingering. _Does his heart beat as fast as mine right now?_

The moment ended not soon at all, but too soon for Elliot's liking.

"Guess we were right in time," Tyrell spoke up. He cleared his throat after he noticed that his voice had dropped to a rough tone that was reserved for the bedroom. Or, well, the office couch. They had never really shared a real bedroom with each other (if you didn't count the hotel rooms, and Elliot didn't), never stayed a night together. Elliot didn't know what to make of the sudden realization that this bothered him.

"For what?" Elliot asked.

Tyrell gestured over to the ocean. "For the sunset of course. Look.”

Neither of them took their eyes off of each other, though. And when they kissed again, they closed them anyway.

  


**|~|**

  


Later, their beer bottles were empty and lying atop the pizza cartons, long forgotten. Tyrell had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, apparently not bothered by the cold wind here.

"How are you not freezing?" Elliot mumbled and pulled his arms around himself, tried to warm himself up. He would be feeling better if Tyrell would just throw his arms around him and hold him, but he would never dare to ask for that. This wasn't a date. This wasn't anything at all.

_Only that's not true, right? This is something_.

"Oh, you're cold? Here, take my jacket," Tyrell gave back and slipped out of his suit coat before Elliot could protest. Which he knew he should, but he didn't want to. He knew this was some sort of line they crossed, but they had crossed a dozen lines in the past months; he couldn't bring himself to care about it anymore.

Tyrell draped it over his shoulders and Elliot slipped his arms into the sleeves. Tyrell's hand lingered on his back, rubbed over it a few times. When he lowered his hand, he let it fall right next to Elliot's on the sand. For a split second, there was the urge to intertwine them, but Elliot knew better than to give in to that foolish wish. _Not a date, he repeated in his head._

"Did you know that Scott's currently looking for a reason to fire me?" Tyrell asked out of the blue. Elliot tore his thoughts away from the fact that their fingers had just brushed together, forced himself to process the information.

"What? Why would he want to fire us?"

_Us? Not us, you moron. He didn't say "us"._

Mortified, Elliot wished Tyrell hadn't noticed it.

But of course, he had. "Well, if it's me, then it's you probably, too. I thought you knew about it, though. Scott's been on our heels for a while now. That's why I... that's why I’ve kept my distance from you for the last couple of days."

_Oh. So that’s why he had been so on edge?_

"I don't even know why I'm clinging to this job. Clearly, I'm not going to become CTO anytime soon, which... is disappointing, I have to admit. It was my goal, after all. Joanna's still not amused about it, but I'm not going to bore you with my marriage problems right now." He chuckled weakly at the last part and their thumbs touched in the sand.

"Would be a bit ironic, I guess," Elliot dared to joke. A smile tugged at the corner of Tyrell's lips, but it vanished quickly again.

"Maybe so," Tyrell admitted. "I just wanted you to know... I want us to keep working together. Honestly, you're... well, you're the only reason why I haven't quit yet. This company doesn't respect me, my boss and my colleagues hate me, the work bores me out of my mind... but there's you in it. I have you, and that's enough to keep me going every morning. I need to prove to Scott that I am... that we are worth keeping in this company. And I know this just sounded cheesy, but I wanted you to know that I appreciate you working for me. Because I know, even if you might have stopped hating me, you still hate everything about Evil Corp."

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

_What am I supposed to -_

"You don't have to answer any of this, you know. It's fine. I wanted to have said it in case we get fired tomorrow. Which we might, because we didn't finish the project yet."

"We can go in early tomorrow and finish it. I'm not... I'm not gonna get fired for trivial shit. If I'm getting fired, then because of something major -"

"Like having an affair with your boss?" Tyrell interrupted him with a grin.

"Possibly, yes. But that's gonna be worse for you than me. I'm not the one... nevermind."

"Not the one married?" Tyrell finished the sentence by himself. Elliot wanted to slap himself for bringing that up again. He didn't want to remind Tyrell that he shouldn't be with him. He didn't even want to remember it himself. Despite the past months, he was still expecting Tyrell to realize that what they were doing was complete madness.

"Yeah," Elliot admitted.

"I told you, don't worry about Joanna. I can handle her. What's important now is that we don't get fired, so we're not... so we don't have to stop working together."

Tyrell quickly averted his gaze at the last sentence, as if he was suddenly embarrassed by it. Or maybe he had wanted to say something else? Maybe... maybe he had meant to say that he didn't want to stop their affair?

_As if. That was just the beer and wishful thinking. Tyrell didn't care about him like that, did he? Why should he bother?_

_But we're here. Together._

_No. Don't think about it like that. It's not like you're in love with him or some shit like that._

"We could go back in now, if you want," Elliot offered, completely against his own wishes. He wanted to stay.

"No, but I think it's getting late now anyway. The sun has gone down, it's getting dark... I would like to drive you home if that's fine with you?" Tyrell asked and started to brush sand off of his feet.

"Sure," Elliot murmured. Since he had left his shoes on, he got right up and grabbed their trash. Tyrell followed him up a little later, wearing his shoes again now. That couldn't have waited until they were in the car?

"Thank you for coming out with me here tonight. I suppose I needed that to clear my head," Tyrell said while they were on their way back to the car.

"Anytime," Elliot answered.

_Don't act so needy._

But he couldn't help himself.

  


**|~|**

  


The drive back to Elliot's apartment was rather quiet. Tyrell's phone had rung a few times, so he had eventually asked Elliot to shut it off. He had seen a bunch of missed texts and calls from Joanna light up before he had happily obliged in turning it off. He felt a tiny bit more important than her right now and that was enough to give him some weird sense of accomplishment.

His own phone went off with a text message, so he checked it to see a new message from an unsaved number. He still recognized it immediately.

'saw you two lovebirds at the beach. looked real cute. i ship it xx'

Elliot scoffed. Darlene had probably been at the arcade earlier. Elliot was glad they hadn't run into her.

He texted back ‘stop stalking me' against his better judgment. Knowing Darlene, she would just tease him even more.

"What's so funny?" Tyrell asked.

"Just Darlene being smart with me. It's nothing," he answered. Tyrell mustn't know that his sister knew about the two of them. He probably wouldn't be too amused.

'if you dont wanna be called out stop snogging in public places like two teenagers in love :)’

Elliot curled his hands into fists. They weren't in love, and Darlene knew this.

'jealous?' Elliot wrote back but didn't send it. There was nothing to be jealous about, plus he didn't want her thinking that the l-word bothered him.

'shut up, it's not like that and you know it.' he sent instead.

'you sure about that?'

"Elliot, we're here.”

Elliot tore his eyes from his phone and looked up to see his flat outside the window.

"Yeah, I see that," Elliot snapped back.

"You're awfully tense. Are you sure it was nothing?" Tyrell asked, put a hand on his knee and squeezed it.

Elliot forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. There was no reason to be mad about a simple “misunderstanding”. Darlene was just teasing him.

"It's alright," Elliot repeated, got out of the parked car. He fumbled for his keys and a cigarette when Tyrell got out as well, shouted "wait!" after him.

"Can I come in with you? Just for a minute?" Tyrell asked when he had caught up to him.

"It's late," Elliot answered, despite wanting to say "yes" immediately. But it was almost ten PM by now, so he did have a point. Joanna was probably worried about him by now. That, or she was furious.

"Elliot, _please_ ," Tyrell added. There was something in that whisper that made Elliot's heart leap again. Tyrell’s eyes on him were wide and pleading, causing his heart to clench. So he nodded and unlocked the front door.

They climbed the stairs side by side, but right before Elliot could reach his flat, he was pushed to the side. His back crashed against the wall and he already had a curse ready on his lips, until Tyrell’s mouth swallowed every noise.

Suddenly there was Tyrell's tongue in his mouth and a breathless moan accompanying it. There were Tyrell's hands cupped around his head and his knee shoved between Elliot's legs, pressing against his erection. There was just Tyrell, everywhere, and it was the best fucking thing he had felt in days.

His keys fell from his hands when he wrapped them around Tyrell's waist to pull him closer; that would bother him in a minute, but not now. The wall outside of his apartment was good enough for the both of them right now. Their teeth clashed together because they were both too harsh, and Tyrell laughed completely out of breath, let his mouth wander over his neck instead.

"I missed this," Tyrell whispered into his right ear and fuck, Elliot thought he was going to come right then and there, untouched, just because of that statement.

He didn't register the barking that had suddenly arisen somewhere near them, but he did notice the absence of Tyrell's body on his.

"Oh shit, Elliot, I thought you were alone!" Shayla exclaimed and wait - since when were Shayla and Flipper standing in the corridor with them?

"I'm so sorry, I meant to give Flipper back to you since it's so late already but clearly you're busy, so I'll just... keep her tonight? If he's going to stay with you? Are you?"

Shayla rambled nonsense when she was embarrassed, that was her thing. It was cute on most days, but right now Elliot was completely mortified. Clearly, she had no idea who the guy in the suit was that stood in front of her right now. How in all hell could Elliot tell her to stop talking without this getting even worse?

"No, I'm not staying overnight. I'm... I'll go," Tyrell spoke up, still out of breath. He slicked his hair back and Elliot saw his hands tremble a little. Flipper was sniffing his shoes right now, but Tyrell didn't acknowledge her.

"No, no, no, you don't have to go. Just keep it up and pretend I was never here. Have fun guys!"

With that, Shayla gathered Flipper from the ground and took her back with her into her apartment. The door fell shut and Elliot groaned.

"Sorry about that," Elliot mumbled. He picked up his keys from the ground and finally unlocked his flat. Tyrell followed him inside, closed the door again but didn't let go of the handle.

"She's right, it's late. I should leave, it's... yes, it's late," Tyrell stuttered. Why was he so nervous? Because someone had caught them?

"Shayla's my neighbor. She doesn't even know who you are. You don't have to worry about her," Elliot said.

"Are you sure about that?" Tyrell asked.

"Two hundred percent sure. She's not going to cause any trouble for us," Elliot answered. He wondered whether he could cross the distance and kiss him again, wondered whether that would be allowed or not.

"Still, I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow morning. What about... six? The meeting's at nine AM."

Elliot pulled a face; he'd have to get up at five, then. "Okay."

"Great. Thank you... and thank you for tonight, Elliot."

Tyrell still lingered in front of the door, seemingly unwilling to leave.

_Please, just stay_ , Elliot wanted to say, but he knew he couldn't. He had no right to act possessive towards Tyrell.

"See you tomorrow, then," Elliot said and Tyrell nodded.

But against his better judgment, Elliot crossed the distance and pressed their lips together again.

Tyrell wasn't going anywhere.

  


**|~|**

  


Elliot was still looking at the empty space Tyrell had left behind him, listened to his footsteps grow quieter with every floor he climbed down until he had left the building after all. There was the click of the front door, then the faint growling of an engine being turned on. At last, squealing tires and then, silence.

He blinked to get his eyes to stop burning. He was so tired, he felt it in his bones. It was somewhere around midnight now, he guessed; he probably wouldn't get more than three hours of sleep tonight. Maybe he would use his insomnia to continue working on their project… Tyrell's words wouldn't fade from his mind.

_I want us to keep working together._

_You're the only reason why I haven't quit yet._

Elliot was fixed on not giving him a single reason to quit his job. No, he would keep them in this company, even if that meant working harder than before.

And really, their project wasn't too complicated, actually. They were supposed to revise the E-Corp messaging app's security. They had finished on that, but a couple of days ago, Elliot had found out that Jensen had been given the same task. It was a set-up; Jensen had been told to develop a completely new strategy which would outsmart their update by far. Thank god Martin had told him about that when they had run into each other for a simultaneous coffee break in the kitchen.

It all made sense now. They were supposed to fail, so Scott, that bastard, had enough of a reason to prove that Tyrell and he weren't good enough for this company. That they just weren't worth the trouble.

Their new security system was still far from being finished. When they had left earlier, Tyrell had been working on the last bugs Elliot had found when he had hacked it for the nth time. Elliot had started preparing fancy charts and spreadsheets to undermine their presentation because Scott just loved that unnecessary shit. And it was all about the act, right? It didn't matter how good they were, they had to prove it with a really 'professional' presentation. Elliot had never understood the need for powerpoint graphs, but he had gotten used to it.

But those were still in Tyrell's office. The only thing he had here was his laptop, but he didn't know whether Tyrell had uploaded the last version of their program to their private cloud server. If he had, he would be able to fix their earlier problem by himself.

He found his phone in the pocket of his jeans, which had landed on the floor earlier. After Tyrell had thrown him onto the mattress, right before -

_Snap out of it._ He mustn't get distracted now.

'did you upload the latest version before we left?' Elliot texted him. He stared at the screen, waited for a reply, waited for one minute, two, three, but nothing. Made sense; now that Tyrell had left, he didn't think of his assistant anymore. He didn't matter now, Joanna and his son did.

There was a knock on the door that could have only been caused by Shayla. Reluctant, Elliot walked to the door and opened up.

"Thought you were keeping her for the night. I have to work," Elliot said.

"You have to work? Now? It's almost midnight, dude," Shayla gave back, passed him and entered his flat, Flipper close on her heels. The both of them crashed on his couch, looking at him with a somewhat expectant look.

"Big day tomorrow. Don't want to fuck it up," Elliot answered. She wasn't leaving now, was she? He shut the door and then finally fumbled for that cigarette he had meant to smoke hours ago when Tyrell had pulled up here.

"Nah, I get it. But maybe you shouldn't have, you know, taken a break to have sex for once. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you. You certainly needed it, you've been too tense these past weeks," she chuckled.

"I... I don't think my sex life is any of your business, Shayla," Elliot muttered, took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"Yeah, guess that's right. But speaking of business, I wouldn't have judged you to have a thing for men in suits."

She winked at him, then laughed and lit up a joint, put her feet up on his couch table.

"I don't."

"Just for that guy, then? Man, he was reaaally into you anyways."

God, she was so high. Normally, Elliot would ask her for the same shit she was on, but he needed to keep a clear head if he wanted to fix some of their program's problems tonight.

"Doesn't matter, I guess."

"What, you don't intend to see him again? Damn, that's a shame!" she exclaimed, even looked a bit depressed at that prospect. Elliot couldn't help himself and laughed sharply.

"Nah, that's not it. I'm gonna see him tomorrow. He's my boss," he admitted. Shayla's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped, literally.

"You're fucking your boss? That... Wellen was his name, right? You're fucking that Wellen guy? Shit, Elliot, why?"

Elliot chuckled, shook his head. "Name's Wellick. And I don't know, it just kind of happened a while ago and we didn't stop yet."

Why was he telling her about this? Since when did he share personal stuff voluntarily?

"I have to say, I'm shook, Elliot. Wouldn't have kept you for the type to fool around with his boss. Just please don't tell me that he's married."

"Okay, I won't tell you," Elliot gave back, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray next to her feet, then lit up another one.

"Elliot," Shayla moaned, threw her head back in an exasperated motion.

"I have it under control. No need to worry about me. But I really need to work now, so can you -"

"Is he forcing you to do overtime?" Shayla interrupted him. She had a rather serious expression on her face now.

"No, he's not. But I already told you, we have an important presentation tomorrow. We need it to work out."

"Okay, I'm leaving. Should I take Flipper back with me?" she asked. She left her half-smoked joint in his ashtray, ready for him to light up anytime he wanted to. He made an effort to smile at her as thanks.

"Yeah," Elliot agreed.

His phone vibrated, finally indicating a new message. He merely registered Shayla and Flipper leaving when the door fell shut behind them, was too focused on unlocking his phone.

'Yes, I did. But please don't continue working now and get some sleep. You need it. Goodnight - Tyrell'

Elliot debated whether he should text a simple 'goodnight' back, but decided against it. Instead, he pocketed his phone and got to work.

  


**|~|**

  


Jensen's smug, self-asserted smile made Tyrell's blood boil. He curled his hands into fists and Elliot was overcome with the urge to uncurl them, then intertwine them with his own and press it reassuringly. A ridiculous wish; he knew he had to keep his hands to himself. Tyrell gnashed his teeth, but his mask of indifferent professionalism was in place. There was nothing he could do to reassure him. He knew Tyrell would curse him - he didn't look nervous on the outside, and Elliot wouldn't be the one to uncover that lie. But he knew. He saw the way Tyrell's eyes darted quickly through the room, he saw the way he tapped his foot on the ground quickly, he saw the way he pretended to fix his cufflinks for the fourth time, even though they were already perfect.

The conference room was packed. Everyone from their tech department was here. Everyone but Scott, who was running late as usual.

Elliot stifled a yawn. He had gone to bed at three thirty, slept for a bit over an hour and then got up again. Tyrell had been mad at him this morning when Elliot had explained to him that he had finished their project, scolded him for being unreasonable but Elliot had seen the relief wash over his face. Tyrell hadn't mentioned it, but his night hadn't been much better, apparently. He looked even more tired than yesterday, had covered the dark circles under his eyes with the hint of concealer. Elliot figured that he had fought with Joanna last night, but he wouldn't dare to ask.

"Morning everyone," Scott said, finally entering the room. "Don't get up, gentlemen," he added when Tyrell and Jensen both simultaneously had started to do so.

"Alright, Wellick, Alderson, what do you have for us?" Scott grunted, sat down on the front of the conference table.

_There we go._

Elliot and Tyrell got up, confident smiles on both their smiles. Their program was perfect; they wouldn't fail.

  


**|~|**

  


And they didn't.

"You were so brilliant!" Tyrell exclaimed as soon as he had closed his office door behind them two hours later. Suddenly Elliot was pulled into a hug, lifted off of his feet and whirled through the air. Tyrell laughed, while Elliot buried his face in the crook of his neck, grinning so hard that his cheeks were hurting.

"Come on, I didn't do much," Elliot said after Tyrell had set him down again.

"Excuse me? You wrote that program, Elliot. You saved us," Tyrell gave back, attempted to scold him but then broke into a grin again. The tension he had been filled with for the past hours slowly vanished from the both of them.

"Did you see Jensen's face? He was so pissed," Elliot remarked.

"Because he didn't have a chance against you. Jävla, Elliot, you just... you -" he stuttered, interrupted himself by just pressing his lips on Elliot's. Elliot moaned out of instinct and threw his arms around him, pulled him as close as possible.

"Thank you," Tyrell mumbled in-between kisses. There was something in his tone, something that... sounded different. It sounded like more. It was like when they had sat on the beach, fingers brushing against each other but never intertwining. It was like snogging in front of his apartment in the middle of the night, despite knowing better but not giving a fuck. It was like... like more than just fucking.

_Don't be ridiculous. It's just the endorphins from having succeeded. It's nothing._

_It's not._

"Elliot," Tyrell murmured, held his head firmly in his hands. He leaned their foreheads together, laughed breathlessly while Elliot just smiled.

"Tyrell," Elliot whispered back.

"Elliot," Tyrell repeated. His voice had gone soft and so were the kisses he placed on his lips now. Not energetic anymore, no, they were cherishing again, lingering, as if neither of them ever wanted to stop kissing one another.

_Stop it. Don't do that to yourself. You can't fall for him. You mustn't. He's the enemy, remember?_

Elliot registered the voice of Mr. Robot in the back of his mind, but he tuned it out. He had been doing fine without him for a while now, he didn't want him to come back like this. He didn't need him, especially not now.

Not now, not when he wanted nothing else than to be in the moment with Tyrell.

But it ended too fast, too abrupt. A sharp knock on the door tore them away from each other.

"Yes?" Tyrell called out with a trembling voice while Elliot hastily sat down on the couch, so he could pretend he had sat there all along.

Jensen bursted into the office. Elliot had never seen him more furious.

"Why did you do that? You were supposed to update the security, not create an entirely new system," he snarled, "that was my task. Scott trusted me with it, not you."

"We didn't know we weren't allowed to put in more work than needed," Tyrell gave back nonchalant, offered an innocent smile before he glanced at Elliot.

"You made me look like a fool, Wellick. Like an incompetent fool," Jensen growled.

"No, you did that by yourself. Next time, be smarter than us and code the better program. But until then, please leave my office now. We have a successful project to celebrate, so, if you'll excuse us…"

Tyrell's smile was back to professional right now, exactly because that would anger Jensen especially. He muttered a few insults under his breath, glared at the both of them before he finally turned around and stormed out of the office again.

"What a moron," Elliot commented. Tyrell laughed and nodded, went after him to lock the door. When he turned around to Elliot, his eyes were full of mischief; the kind you didn't mention to your co-workers or your wife.

He crossed the distance between them with a few big steps, then sat down right on top of him and crashed their lips together.

"What, we're not celebrating with champagne?" Elliot teased while Tyrell was already busy unbuttoning his shirt.

"Later. Right now, all I want is you."

Elliot whimpered, blamed it on the fact that Tyrell had just cupped his erection through his jeans rather than on that statement.

"I'm yours," he whispered back. 

**Author's Note:**

> So that's a wrap! Ever since I wrote those little flashbacks of Elliot in IYWL, I've wanted to write them out. And since I spent my last week lying at the beach of Porto, it seemed fitting that I should write that kind of OneShot these days.


End file.
